Everyone Deserves Honesty
by Brien James
Summary: It's been a year, and Neville and Dudley are comfortable together. Dudley however isn't exactly comfortable introducing his parents to his better half. A coming out story told through the lens of Dursleyish expectations.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the world of Harry Potter, nor any of the characters or global concepts herein. My name is not J.K. Rowling, and this is not meant as a threat to her ownership of Harry Potter.

**Reader Beware**: Homosexual Relationship, "British" Dialogue with American Spelling.

**Time**: roughly 6 years after the end of the Deathly Hallows.

**Place**: Just outside Number 4 Privet Drive, Surrey, England.

* * *

"Dudley Dursley and the Uncomfortable Admission"

Dudley stood on the doorstep of his childhood home and adjusted his tie. He hadn't worn a noose, as he preferred to call them, since leaving Smeltings. His father had been livid when Dudley had said that Grunnings wasn't the place for him, and that he'd found an opportunity in a construction firm. He patted down his jumper, and reached up to run his fingers through his hair, which was once again longish and curly when a hand reached up to grasp his, and pull it back down to his side.

Dudley turned right to look into the golden eyes of his lover and asked, "Do I look alright?"

Neville squeezed his hand before letting go once it was near Dudley's waist. "You look perfect. Everything will go over well. You yourself said that the fact that Harry is here will keep them distracted," he said. With that mention Harry leaned in from the left and said, "Let's just ring the door bell, Dudders."

This was just like joining the crew, working hard, and then demanding a higher position from the bosses. If he hadn't gotten the courage to walk into that austere office and tell Mr. Jensen that he had proven himself a capable worker and that he had A-Levels in subjects a supervisor needed, they'd never have promoted him. Steeling himself, Dudley reached forward and pressed the door bell once. The answering chimes it produced caused his resolve to waver slightly, but within a minute he heard movement from within the house.

The door opened halfway, and he made eye contact with his mother. The initial look of unconditional love darkened to one of confusion when she took in the two wizards flanking Dudley. Her eyes practically turned frightened when she settled on Harry, "Never thought you'd darken this doorstep again," she said. It was a slip in manners Dudley himself couldn't believe. She hadn't greeted him or asked them inside. It was a side of his mother he had never seen before.

"Might we come in Aunt Petunia? I'm not sure that you want the neighbors wondering why your own flesh and blood is still standing on the doorstep for so long after you've come to the door," Harry said. Dudley's mother straightened her back even more and stepped inside, opening the door fully as she pressed against the wall. She hurriedly beckoned them inside and Harry went in first, followed by Neville and Dudley last. Dudley shuffled down the tight corridor to the sitting room, certain his ears were burning as he heard the door shut tightly followed by the distinctive and familiar sound of it being locked.

Dudley found himself a seat before his mother came in and offered. He wasn't sure she'd ever willingly offer Harry a seat, and he wanted this to go as smoothly as possible. Harry himself was standing, as he didn't want to presume, but Neville relaxed on the sofa next to him. Their hands reaching for one another until they heard her approaching the doorway. "Mum, is dad out with friends? I'd have thought you'd both be here this time of night," Dudley tried.

"A friend... yes that's what you can call it," she replied with a tight set to her expression. Dudley could instantly tell something else was wrong, but he didn't have time for two crises in one day. If she still accepted him after he told her the news, then he'd find a way to help her with her problem.

"Well, mum. I came here today, with Harry and Neville, to tell you something very important," he said, drawing strength from his lover being right at his side. Even with that confidence, his voice caught and he was certain his mother could feel the uncomfortable nature of the topic.

"So the boy's finally gone and killed someone and he needs to hide? Well, you can just go on the lamb like any self-respecting murderer. We won't take you in again. We were through with that years ago," she said, ranting on a fantasy that only she would imagine first at the idea of uncomfortable news.

"I haven't killed anybody except in the line of duty, Aunt Petunia. I'm a wizard policeman. Also, I wouldn't try to hide in Surrey if there were even suspicion of something like that," Harry explained, laughing at the last part.

"Mum, that's crazy," Dudley said. He couldn't think of any other way to respond to her dramatic fantasy, so he just tried to pick up where he left off, "Um... no I came over to tell you that Neville is moving in with me."

She quirked an eyebrow at that, and drawled out, "So this is what comes of working in the dirt instead of in the office of a well established firm like Grunnings?" It was a rhetorical question, and again far from the reality of the situation. "If you just needed money, your father would have been happy to help get you a new job, and provide your rent until your first paycheck. You didn't need to get a roommate," she concluded.

Dudley shook his head and leaned forward to drop it into his hands. "No, mum. You've always been like this. I was always perfect and you were always perfectly oblivious," he said. His mother looked at his behavior and then she seemed to put it all together, because her face paled. Then she began to shake, even though her face returned to a stoic barely calm facade.

"Well, if it's not a money problem, I see no reason for you to come all the way out here to tell your father and I about one of your friends moving into your flat," she said. Dudley peered up and noticed her hands shaking. Okay, this was going about as he'd expected. Take it for her to figure out he was gay for her to finally ignore the lightning bolt scarred proverbial elephant in the room.

"Mum...," he started only to be cut off by his mother, "No, Diddidums. We don't need to know about your little friends. Can I get you all a sandwich or have you just had tea?"

"Mum! Neville isn't one of my friends! I mean he is my friend, but he's much more than that! I...," Dudley tried.

"Don't you say it, Dudley Dursley! I'll not have those words uttered in my home. This is all just a bunch of nonsense, or a fad. I hear all the boys your age do this experimenting thing, but you'll lose interest in this someday. None of my neighbors will ever think I raised a son who wasn't going to marry a nice girl and settle down!" she exclaimed, growing more and more agitated as she ranted on.

"So, I take it you don't want a seat of honor at the wedding, Mrs. Dursley?" Neville asked, as polite as ever, but honestly upset that she was calling Dudley's feelings for him a passing fad.

Petunia Dursley blanched and stood up adopting a ramrod straight posture as soon as she found her feet. She looked about to explode, her face as white as a sheet and her hands tightly clenched into fists and shaking like a baby rattle in the excited hands of a toddler.

"Aunt Petunia, if your implication earlier is any indication of difficulties here, please try to accept Dudley and Neville. You'll need family support, and while I'm glad neither of you are seriously injured, you know there is no love lost between us. Don't push Dudley away now. He's the same child you love unconditionally and spoiled from day one. It's taken a lot of courage for him to be here today, telling you this. He wouldn't if he didn't love you and crave your support," Harry finished. The entire time he had been speaking Petunia's face had alternatively flushed and paled, until now she was wearing a shade of caucasian pink more like her normal self.

She relaxed somewhat, which is to say her back was still frightfully stiff, but she was no longer in danger of snapping in half, or of cutting anything by brushing past it. It took her several moments further to unbend herself and reseat herself in the chair. "So... you're gay?" she asked. Dudley could only nod to that in response. "And you're in love with a wizard of all people?" she asked again. Dudley blushed and frantically tried to figure out how she could tell Neville was a wizard, but he nodded again as he fumbled his hand towards Neville's. He felt the reassuring grasp and that settled his nerves.

She gave all three of the startled faces a look that said, 'I'm not stupid.' She continued, "I've had plenty of experience seeing wizards and witches. I can pick one out of a crowd if they happen to be sneaking into a 'muggle' area," she said with disdain. "This one was easier to pick out than most when I stopped being upset about the wedding comment," she explained. The pair looked at each other and gave each other confusing looks.

"Oh, we often forget, but gay blokes in the muggle world get a civil ceremony," Harry said, getting it almost immediately.

"I always thought it'd be you who ran off with another man, not my Dudley," she said, looking at Harry.

Harry grumbled nearly under his breath, "Sorry to disappoint once again, Aunt Petunia."

She heard him and tried not to show it, but everyone in the room knew. "So, as you have surmised, Vernon is working late, like he does every Friday night," she said, dropping her voice a few decibels at the end as she became aware of what she was admitting, to those who can read between the lines in any case. "If we keep up appearances I will need to tell him the particulars when your invitation arrives by owl. I do not think it wise to tell him ahead of time," she finished.

"I'm afraid I disagree, ma'am. Dudley and I fully intend to have children, and if he is opposed to gay men raising potentially magical grandchildren of his, we should find out now. Otherwise I won't let him near my children. My loving uncle unknowingly made me scared for my life for years, and I'll not tolerate any abuse, intentional or not, towards any children of mine," Neville said, speaking up with a confidence that brooked no dissension.

"Fine," she said. "Vernon is usually back around 9 p.m. on such a night, but I can call and say there is an emergency. Wait right here," Petunia said as she stood once again and walked to the phone to dial Vernon's mobile. She had thought it would bring them closer together, for him to always be in reach. Instead, it gave him the courage to ban her from calling the office for all of her 'wifely nagging' as he had put it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the world of Harry Potter, nor any of the characters or global concepts herein. My name is not J.K. Rowling, and this is not meant as a threat to her ownership of Harry Potter.

**Reader Beware**: Homosexual Relationship, "British" Dialogue with American Spelling.

* * *

"Vernon Dursley and the Homosexual Heir"

Vernon was speaking to Matilda, his secretary, about the importance of a man's touch to politics when his mobile rang. He was certain that it could only be his wife interrupting the enchanting take away dinner he was having with Matilda. In his mind, the ringtone was a death knell on his evening's festivities. He was an hour from bending the mild mannered, but utterly normal Matilda Marchbanks over his desk and engaging in his weekly bout of torrid sex. Just the thought of his wife's face, with her magical genetics hanging over his head when he looked at her caused his penis to go immediately flaccid, not that it was normally engorged at this stage in the weekly seduction play.

"Excuse me, my dear. Something must have come up, I'll just take this call. Very important," he said, as he sidled to the door clutching the device. Once his baloonlike form had made it out into the hallway, he closed the door behind him and pressed the answer button while simultaneously hunching over and plugging his other ear. He pressed the bloody thing to his head and whispered out, "What is it, Pet? I'm still at the office!"

He heard the words, but he didn't quite understand. He asked her to repeat what she had said, because it didn't register at first. "I said, Vernon, that Dudley has come round and it turns out there is a bit of an emergency. I think you had better get back home as soon as you are able," she repeated. Dudley? His boy was in trouble? Well that was indeed an emergency, no matter how little the problem might be, he had to head home immediately. He returned to his office after bidding his wife goodbye, and hanging up the phone.

"Matilda, it turns out I need to be off. Family business, don't you know. So if you wouldn't mind eating your fill, and then cleaning up all of the mess before you lock up and head home?" he asked. It wasn't a question, but he found it always better to ask his employees to do exactly what he wanted in the form of an open ended question, it got better results. She nodded and said she would take care of things and see him on Monday. He raced to his car and began the trip home.

Vernon drove like a mad man, weaving in and out of lanes, and made it home in good time, only twelve minutes from door to door. He stomped up the pavement to his doorway and flung the door open in moments. "What's all this then?" he asked as he raced down the hallway and stopped just outside the sitting room to the sight of Petunia sitting down, calmly consuming a late tea while Dudley, an unfamiliar man, and Harry Bloody Potter were sitting on the sofa doing likewise. None of them seemed to be all that agitated, so whatever the emergency it wasn't one of those sort.

"Did the Boy kill someone? Is that what this is about?" Vernon began, he couldn't believe he had rushed home for some colossal spin session to save his worthless, ungrateful nephew's hide.

"No, Vernon, please come over here and sit in your favorite chair. Dudley has news for you," Petunia said, standing to direct him towards the only unoccupied seat in the room.

"Gotten some girl pregnant, son? Why is the boy and this stranger here for that?" Vernon began again. Petunia just put a hand on his arm and gave him a look that was bereft of emotion. Given their uncomfortableness with the boy's presence, she should have had something playing on her features, however she was calm and impossible to read.

"Dad, I wanted you to meet my partner. Neville, this is my father Vernon Dursley. Dad, this is Neville Longbottom," Dudley said. Now, Vernon's mind was running a hundred kilometers an hour, they needed money!

"Dudley, you know that if you have a sound business plan, I'd be happy to invest. I always did say you could do better than a construction firm. So what's the industry and how much capital do you need?" he asked, expecting his son's face to brighten up and for him to begin spouting off numbers excitedly. Instead, Dudley's blue eyes closed and his brow furrowed.

"I'm not your son's business partner, Mr. Dursley. We've just moved in together, and wanted to clear the air...," the new man said, his voice trailing off into nothingness. He didn't know what other kinds of partners you could have. He knew for a fact that Dudley wasn't some kind of undercover bobbie, he'd have told them because his parents would have been proud of him for that. So it wasn't a job thing, and it wasn't business related. The confusion must have shown quite clearly on his face, as Dudley spoke up once more.

"Dad, I'm gay."

The words connected all of the obvious dots for Vernon, and he leapt to his feet screaming, "What!" His son cowered back from him, and suddenly both Petunia and the boy were holding him back. He replayed all of the times concerned parents in the neighborhood had laid slander at his doorstep, claiming his son had beaten up their children, and the parents of the slim effeminate ones had relayed the worst stories. Then there was the string of girlfriends that Dudley never seemed to become serious with, and the utter lack of success Vernon had in convincing Dudley to take up conventional sports such as rugby.

His son had taken well to boxing, but boxing was a one on one sport. The locker rooms weren't overcrowded with other half-naked men, and the point wasn't to slam into other men, but to out fight them at something of a distance, no matter how minor. Yes, it all came to a head and he saw the emergency for what it was. The last straw in a long line of injustices placed on his shoulders as burdens for him to bear. He calmed down and his wife and nephew stopped restraining him. Vernon turned his view to the floor and would have bored a hole into the rug with the intensity of his anger and the focus of his stare if such a thing were possible.

After long minutes of silence the younger Dursley opened his cursed mouth and uttered a short sentence, "Say something, Dad."

Vernon opened his mouth and said, "This is all your fault." He heard a gasp leave his son's mouth from across the room, but it wasn't Dudley that he was accusing. Vernon turned to Petunia, his wife of many decades and said again, "This is your fault. Your cursed lineage has now tainted the one thing I had to be proud of, my legacy. I can't take any more unnaturalness, Petunia. We're quits."

"Dad, you can't blame mum! It's not anybody's fault!" Dudley said, standing up to tower over his father by a few inches.

Vernon looked at the tall, blond man, with the stocky build, the built chest, the curly hair neatly parted on one side, and the blue eyes that reminded him of his own mother. He also saw the disbelief and defiance in those eyes and he said, "I had a gut feeling that I shouldn't have settled for your mother. I wanted a nice normal wife, a woman who would be the perfect home maker, the perfect hostess, and the least abnormal person for miles around. I knew your mother's family history and the friends her sister made. I thought it wouldn't matter because Petunia wasn't magical, but I see now that even being remotely related to that stuff is too close. I don't regret that we got married and had you, but you aren't the heir I envisioned, Dudley."

And with that, Vernon Dursley walked up the stairs, intent on packing a suitcase and spending the night in a hotel.

* * *

"Life has a way of testing you, and some people are up for the challenge and others pack it in. I've decided on raising kids, so I'm off, Pete," Dudley said by way of explanation.

"I just don't understand why you're quitting, Dursley. Let your wife raise the kids until they're in school. You're valuable 'round here!" Pete said from the doorway where he stood watching Dudley gather up the last several years of his life.

Dudley chuckled at that as he packed up the last of his desk materials and smirked at his direct supervisor. "Well, that's the funny thing. I guess you could say I'm the wife. Now, if you don't mind, we're bringing Alice home from hospital today, and I still have a lot to get sorted at home," he replied with just a hint of something more.

His former foreman was not forthcoming with an explanation to that cryptic admission, however, so Pete felt he should apologize somewhat. He stood aside, "Slip of the tongue, Dursley. I forget every day that you're for blokes. I just meant, we've never had a worker quit to raise tykes, let alone a foreman." Dudley waited for him to stop speaking before nodding and sliding past him into the corridor. He didn't really understand, but he followed him out anyway. The door opened onto the main courtyard and there was a thunderous applause that greeted the pair of them. "Take care, Dursley. I can't say we'll hold a spot for you for 5 years, but there's always a place for you if we've got space," Pete said, clapping Dudley on the shoulder.

"Thanks, Pete. Thanks, fellas! I'll send you a family photo and maybe stop by for a pint sometime. My mum has offered to babysit once or twice in a long while," he said


	3. Author's Note

I accidentally didn't set the status of this story when it was uploaded. 2 parts is all it was intended to be, with the last scene being an epilogue. Just as a reminder, this is #2 of 3 story in the Everyone Deserves series. I'll be uploading story 3, which is pretty much a long drabble, soon.


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